Sleepless Night
by Sarah6
Summary: Coming to terms with an enemy is hard enough. Coming to terms with an enemy who's only real inside your mind is sometimes deadly. Rated PG-13 for language and even more disturbing Dilly!


  
"Lying all alone and restless   
Unable to lose this image  
Sleepless unable to focus on   
Anything but your surrender." ~A Perfect Circle  
  
  
****  
  
  
I watch as the moons reflect their light off my face. The soft night breeze sweeps gently through my hair and around the white curtains causing them to take strange ghostly shapes. Stars shine down, too many to count, making me feel almost overwhelmed by their sheer masses. It is another sleepless night.  
  
I dare not tell my brother, he's too laden with worries as it is. I will not worry him with my troubles. I step away from the window and head out the door. This house, everything in it strikes me with memories.  
  
Since they have returned to me it is surprising what I remember. Things most other people would have normally forgotten. I walk past a painting. As I pick it up the faces are illuminated in dim light and they smile up at me. I see my father standing proud beside his wife, my mother. She holds me, only an infant child at the time. My brother stands tall, mimicking my fathers stern facade, but the laughter shines in his eyes.  
  
I can remember the day I was born, strange as it seems. It shouldn't be possible, but I do. It was hot. A blistering day when the sun bore down upon the terrain, drowning everything in its exhausting heat. I remember seeing my mother's face for the first time, sweat beading off her forehead and dampening her hair. And her weary but overjoyed smile as she took me into her arms.  
  
I blink as a droplet splatters on the glass frame of the picture and wipe the tears from my eyes. I miss my mother. Setting the frame back down I step out of the hall into the living room. Sometimes when I can't sleep I sit in the chair by the fireplace. It's too warm for a fire tonight so I stare at the aging ashes.  
  
Something catches my attention. Something I've never noticed before. It glints silver in the moonlight from where it hangs above the hearth. A long wicked looking dagger. It must have belonged to my father, I don't recall my brother ever carrying it.  
  
Normally such things wouldn't interest me, but as I stare at it a strange feeling wells up within me, striking my curiosity and I long to touch the silver blade. I stand and lift the dagger from its perch and into my hands. It's about the length of my forearm, made from a metal I am unfamiliar with. It's hilt is bound in rough leather and a red jewel glows from where it is embedded at the end.  
  
As I turn it over delicately in my hands, more memories find their way to my consciousness. These ones are much more vivid, as if I am actually there. I see fire, a wall of flames blasting heat in my face, and smoke. Clouds of materialized shadows rise above me. I see people before me, clutching bleeding wounds, gasping for breath as their lives slowly fade before me. I see the last emotion in their eyes before the fade away, dead and lifeless. It is fear. Fear of me.  
  
I draw a sharp breath, realizing my hand has wrapped around the hilt of the dagger, gripping it tightly. It's him. I can feel his presence now, burning within me, within my mind. I've felt it before, but never this strongly. He is the cause of these horrible visions, these memories, these sleepless nights. They are his memories, not mine.  
  
A shudder runs up my spine as I hear his voice inside my head. He speaks in a low, gentle tone which frightens me more then if he were shouting like he normally does. He must know now how easy it is for me to ignore him when he shouts. He must know now.  
  
"No, " I whisper, the dagger shaking in my hands as the simultaneously loosen and tighten around the leather hilt, "No, you're lying...no."  
  
But I can still here his voice whispering to me. "Give in Celena," he purrs, and I can feel his wicked grin widening. He knows that I'm losing control, "Give in, there's nothing for you here. You don't know them, you don't know yourself. You've been locked away far too long for anyone to understand who you really are. Even the ones closest to you."  
  
"No..." I sob dryly, gritting my teeth, "No... HE loves me, he understands me, he knows the pain I feel."  
  
"Then why do you sit alone in this room? If he knows your grief then why does he still lay sound asleep in his bed? He is untroubled, and he wants to keep it that way."  
  
I part my lips to object but he presses on, gaining confidence as he goes, "Of course he was glad to see you when you returned at last to him, he's so lost in his own affairs. By finding you, he thought he'd found a part of himself as well. But that pretty fantasy wore thin so quickly didn't it? You're no longer the darling little sister he knew from his boyhood, instead you're another helpless female that he must go out of his way to keep from harm. Just like that little Mystic Moon bitch..."  
  
He pauses, as if he can see my face stretching into a horrified expression. "It's not true....it's NOT!"  
  
"Well well," he chuckles at his newfound discovery, "I suppose that IS all that you are, aren't you? Just a replacement for some other little girl. Something to keep his mind off of what he once had but could never keep. Just a replacement...."  
  
I felt the last of my control slip away, like grains of sand slip through a person's fingers, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, until there is nothing. A wave of numbness washed over my mind. I couldn't hear, couldn't feel. The only sense I had was my sight. And what a strange sense. I blinked and my eyes flashed around the room, seeing it as if I'd never before laid my eyes upon it. They came to rest on the dagger still clutched in my hands. And my mouth moved, turning up into a smile that was not my own.  
  
I cannot tell you what it is like to experience your body moving without your will commanding it too. But it's so hazy, like the feeling you get when you're body is so exhausted that even though you know you're awake you feel as if you are dreaming.  
  
I'm passing down the dark hallway once again, trailing the fingers of my knife-less hand lightly down the wooden walls until I finally reach a doorway. My hand then reaches for the knob and turns it ever so slowly. The door swings open, into the light-less room.  
  
My bear feet make little noise as they move over the floor and I approach the large bed at the end of the room. My brother is sound asleep, his long golden hair spread out over his pillow. He looks like a sleeping angel.  
  
My mind is working slow as molasses and it is only when my hands being to raise the dagger above my head do I suddenly realize what I am about to do. And in turn I realize that I am powerless to stop it.  
  
His voice returns to me, more taunting then before, he's in control and has little to worry about. "Now, what will you do little girl? Will you kill him with your own two hands?"  
  
"No..." I gasp, but I realize that it is now my voice that is but a thought heard only by him, and I beg , "Please Dilandau, NO!"   
  
I want to cry, I want to fall to my knees and sob till my sides are sore, but I cannot. And he is laughing all the while.  
  
The dagger seems to shine in the darkness above my head, though there is nothing to reflect upon it. My silent scream erupts throughout my mind as the blade begins its plummet straight down, to bury itself deep in my sleeping brother's chest.  
  
I discover that I can still hear my own screams, as my eyes focus once more, and I can clearly see the dragger hovering little more then an inch or so above my brother's heart. I start to shake uncontrollably as the another wave washes over me, this one returning my body to my own control. I recoil with trembling hands, and the knife clatters harmlessly to the floor. My brother stirs.  
  
I gasp for breath and the voice returns once again. "So how do you fare little girl? How much more of this will you take? Can you take? Will I succeed to tomorrow? Will you wake up one morning to find your dear brother sliced navel to neck with no recollection of the preceding night? Tell me Celena..." his wicked voice was fading away now, but was no less frightening with his last words, "How much longer will you allow me the pleasure of tormenting you?" And then his laughter faded away, leaving me to my own silent screams.  
  
I finally become aware of myself once again as a voice, a real voice, weary but soft with concern reached my ears.  
  
"Celena? Celena are you all right?" My brother asks, sitting up in his bed.  
  
I blink and turn my gaze to him. "Yes, I'm fine," I answer him, turning back to the door, "Sorry for waking you. I'll leave now."  
  
It's just another sleepless night.  
  
****  
  
A.N~   
OOOO, Am I in a creepy mood or what? ::evil grin:: Funny thing, I started this little Monologue type thing back during the summer whilst having temporary writer's block from my other Esca fic (White Heat, Go read! ^^()) but I didn't finish until this lonesome October night, ::shrugs:: ahh what'dya gonna do, right? BTW, just so people know, I don't *hate* Celena, In fact I think she's a pretty cool character once you get her stupid brother to shove outta the lime light for once! ::grumbles:: ahh, well I spared him too (suprisingly, I was THIS close to squewering him), so I'm not such a bad person, but I'm at a loss for good villians right now and I need to have someone torment someone!! ::pant:: ah well, it's late and I'm over stimulated. Hopefully for all of my adoring fans out there ::waves:: I'll have the next chap. of White Heat out tonight or tommorow night. HOPEFULLY!! It's half done, so I'm getting there. My sister won't let up on me now unless I have a chapter a week and she's getting even more persistent then that, errrr....Ed need tea!!! ::scampers off again::  
~Sarah~  



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